Fallout: The Gulf Commonwealth
by Immortal13100
Summary: In 2285, east of the Mojave, and South of the Capitol Wasteland, is the remains of the Gulf Commonwealth. All that remains are raiders, tribals, and wild life. When Lonely Fire, a tribal, finds himself with a lust for revenge, he's ready to sate it. Not even a deathclaw would be able to stop him from dealing justice. But what about worse? OC characters, I do not own Fallout.
1. Chapter 1

_**Chap. 1 A Man's First Battle**_

**(This is a Fallout story I wrote to practice writing for a much larger fanfic of a different series. Please feel free to give feedback, every bit helps. NOTICE: I do not own the Fallout franchise, or any characters from the original series.)**

***This story takes place in what was called the Gulf Commonwealth in the series. All characters in this story so far are OCs. Should i continue it in future stories or chapters than i planned, that may change.***

Lonely Fire waited anxiously on the river bank, careful not to go near the irradiated water. Caravans were rare in the region, and they didn't have too much RadAway left from the last trade. His bow was in hand, arrow ready on the string. Another problem would be the...what did the traders call them, mirelurks? His tribe encouraged younger members to begin using both the tribal tongue and the common tongue. Wasn't too hard because they shared some words, and they've been speaking the trader's language since Fire could remember, but still not a...slice of pie? Fuck it, he'd just learn expressions later.

"Hola, pal, happy 16th year," whispered a raspy voice. He turned to see his cousin, Little Coon, crouched with his war lance at the ready, facing the water. Great minds think alike.

"We should collect the shaui pelts before sun fall," Fire said, examining the surroundings.

"Agreed," said Coon. "Tall Tree wants us back soon anyway. You know the raids get more frequent around this time of year." And that it did. Their tribe, the Wet Folk, were often targeted by raiders, and while no other tribes were hostile to their tribe, they were all too busy with their own battles to assist. Thankfully, the Wet Folk were smart and strong. They rarely lost warriors. Speaking of which, today was Fire's initiation into the warriors. He only had two errands left, one of which was gathering the pelts for his bedroll. The other was crafting his own tomahawk.

Fire and Coon carefully collected the snares and bodies of the shaui, the ringed tails beautiful in their own way. Fire's mouth watered at the thought of the stew he would have that night. Judging by the expression on Coon's face, he had similar thoughts. They then returned to camp and deposited the carcasses to the tribe seamstress, then made their way to the forge.

This was the most...unique part of the ritual. As he approached the forge master, Fire produced a rusted spike from the wooden & steel path. He then handed it to the forge master, who threw it into the coal box. After it was heated to a red hotness, he retrieved it and had Fire pound it onto shape: a head of an ax. They then fitted it to an oak branch that Fire had fire hardened the previous week. When the long process was over, and they put a decent edge on the blade, he held a finished blade. He had been looking forward to this for years. The young man finally grew to be a warrior.

Coon handed him a mirror shard, and he accepted. It was traditional for the Wet Folk to scar their face upon a warrior's initiation. Bigger scars were seen as more ambitious. The traders couldn't understand it, but when Fire thought of them wearing useless clothes most of the time, he couldn't wrap his head around that either. He took a deep look, at his long brown hair, curious blue eyes, skin that was somehow pale even after hours of hunting, and his face as a a whole. He retrieved his skinning knife and made a long cut from the bridge of his nose down to his jawline on the right side of his face. The forge master smiled ear to ear.

"Welcome to the club, hattak," he said. Fire could only smile in return, ignoring the burning sensation on his face. The smile soon vanished as a gunshot fired off, and the forge master's brain matter covered him and Coon and the body fell with a thud. They both dropped, and the village was in an uproar.

"Raiders! Hide the ohoyo y alla," cried the war chieftain, Tall Tree, who had more a growing train of experienced warriors in to and a revólver in hand. As instructed, many lead the woman and children to the safety of homes. He pointed at Lonely Fire.

"Fire, you are now a man. No time for ceremony, go and put your new weapon to use," he shouted. The new warrior could only nod as he ran off to the village gate to help keep out the fuckers out of the village.

As he was running to the gate, a wiry, twitchy man jumped the village wall, armed with a crappy rusted and pitted revólver. He leveled it at Fire's head but he never got the chance to pull the trigger, for Fire quickly used his free hand to grab the gun, twist the man's hand behind his back, then crashed his tomahawk into the raider's skull, spraying the two young men with fresh cranial matter. Fire relieved him of his weapon and ammunition, then continued to the front. It was his first man-kill, and he'd never forget it. His apparel, a patchwork of orange and brown colors, marked him as a member of the Snake Gang. Trash that never amounted to anything, petty raiders too stupid to survive any other way than like barbaric animals, stealing and killing.

They made it to the gate without much issue after that. They waited. But the raider's never came through. They lost too many men to continue the siege. But they had a parting gift. Fire heard a roar and turned to see a home on fire. Then he saw why. They were flinging flame bottles into the village, torching the wooden homes, women and children inside. Everyone ran to assist to fight the flames, but it was too late five women and twoof the children. One of them was Coons's little brother. another was their abuelo, their mother's mother.

Coon wept outside of the home as it burned, refusing to be put out. Fire had to restrain him from flinging himself into the pyre his blood was in. He knew at that moment, he would make the raider's pay for what they did to his people. Next group of traders that came in, he planned on leaving with them to hunt down the bastards responsible like the animals they were. As the smoke filled the air and they smelled the burnt flesh, he swore one thing: as long a he breathed, he would hunt down those raiders until they were gone. He noticed a young ofi, barely out of pup-hood, whimpering, looking into the flames. It belonged to a widowed village elder, so the dog now had no one. He walked over to it and scratched it behind its ear, and it perked up at his touch, turning to him so that they shared eye contact: together, they shall reap the harvest of revenge the raiders had planted for them. As he walked to his home to ready for his journey, the ofi followed, wagging it's tail menacingly. This was the first chapter of their new lives.

* The tribal language consists of a blend of Spanish, English, & Choctaw.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter 2: On the Road**_

_**(I do not own Fallout, or any characters or locations or anything they've used. Especially not an old friend from New Vegas who's making an appearance in this chapter. ;) enjoy, and please give input. Any feedback is good feedback. Also, sorry i'm not very tech literate and i'm having trouble tabbing paragraghs and centering title. Also, i know this chapter is short, don't worry, the next one is much more interesting.)**_

Lonely Fire and Ofi had travelled west with the traders for almost two weeks, and he couldn't help but wish the the Snake Gang made their home closer to his village. Still, his experience was...interesting with the traders. They eagerly took the chance to take him on as a guard, and every night would ask more questions, typically practical things such as hunting tips or constellations, but they would also ask trivial things, such as why his warriors scarred themselves, or the meaning of their tomahawks. He'd always answer, but he wished they'd not ask.

One such night, a younger trader asked about the most dangerous wildlife, a practical question he could respect. His answer was immediate and confident:

"Dragones. Um, G.E.C.K.O.s."

"I ain't seen any around here. And you mean to tell me you're more worried bout scalies than mirelurks?"

"No, i have seen the carcass of what you refer to. It's not the same. Not even a proper translation, for their is none. Imagine one, then make it about 20 feet tall and a ton in wait. Fast as hell in the water, too. Only weak part of it's armor is it's stomach. Otherwise you'd need massive guns, or explosions, to take one down That is a dragón."

"Ah...out west, most dangerous thing we have is a deathclaw. Imagine a cross between a wolf, a goat, and a man. It is something like that, though i'm not quite sure if that description is correct. However, how else can you describe something that just is?"

"Beast will always have the upper hand, physically," said Fire, now examining his bow and arrows. "But we are smarter. Whenever possible, my people either lay ambushes for things like dragónes, or traps. We also have...boom sticks, big guns, that work when there is no time or too few people." Now he was taking inventory of ammunition, with 24 arrows and 30 rounds of .38 ball for his revólver. Ofi stuck his head in Fire's lap, and he scratched him behind his ear. At this time, they were all of home they had.

"Well, me and the boys are thankful of what you have done to help us. And since this is our last night together, we got you a present. Hold on," he said and retrieved something from his pack. He handed Fire a carton of six grenades. "Either use them for your revenge, or on dragónes, or whatever you need to, Lonely Fire. Just stay alive, ok?"

"Yes, I shall. Much thanks."

"No problem. And hey, you ever come out west to New Vegs, look me up. I know the, um, chief there. Im sure she'd love to meet you. You're the kinda guy she always had with her incase she needed heads smacked together."

"Thank you, Ringo. I wish you're caravan has much success in the future," said Lonely Fire. He then laid upon his bedroll and thought more. Tomorrow he would be in the town of Port Rust, a trading town that served fishermen and traders. He would need to buy food and water, thankfully he brought furs and trinkets to trade. However, he knew there was no way to fight off the raiders with just him and Ofi. They needed assistance. After all, neither he nor Ofi were capable of true range fighting. Or had knowledge of explosives. He needed someone who could fill in the gaps of where he was weak at. Hopefully, he could find a mercenary or another disgruntled individual like himself. He didn't let this bother him, for he knew that everything would fall in place. He closed his eyes and accepted sleep's comfortable embrace.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter 3: Two Guns are Better Than One**_

_**(I**** do not own Fallout, that's Bethesda's property. I only own OCs.)**_

Maya was bored. The young woman had been stuck in Port Rust for several months, when the rest of her scavenger had been killed off by the Snake Gang. To say the young brunette was angry would be like saying the sun was warm. She was fucking livid. And she could have put down the whole damn gang if she wanted to. Despite her small frame and youthful complexion, she was as deadly as she was beautiful. She was trained by 1st Recon as a guerrilla fighter back when it looked like the Legion would take over Vegas. She even wore a forrest green beret that they made for her. But she would need a guide. And none of the pussies in this shit hole would lead her. Not to mention, her hand to hand combat proficiency, as well as mid range shooting capabilities, were marginal. At best.

"Well, i'll just need to keep my rifle ready until I get the chance," she sighed, leaving her shack to go buy supplies. As she walked, she noticed she had a tail, a rather twitchy man who looked like an addict. Psycho, looked like.

She reached for her silenced pistol in her carry on bag, only to have another man step in front of her and grab her hand before she could retrieve her pistol. Then another man came from across the street, knife in hand. Well, fuck, she thought. Then she noticed another 2 figures, one man with a bow slung over his shoulder & a tomahawk in hand, and one a dog, shadow behind the man who was now about to strike her.

Her attacker raised his hand to strike her, but he never did. A pale hand grabbed the fist from behind, twisted it behind his back, and broke the arm with a sickening CRACK the a tomahawk crashed into the man's skull. The newcomer then turned to the blade wielding man, who stabbed at him. He deftly side stepped, grabbed his hand, slammed his palm into his nose, shattering it, then slammed the mugger's own knife in his throat, spilling his blood over the crappy street. Maya then spun around and double tapped the mugger who was behind her, just as he was pulling out a switchblade. She turned and studied her rescuer: a younger guy, with neck length brown hair tied back, blue eyes that seemed to smolder in a passive aggressive way, and a large scar that ran from his nose to his jawline.

"Are you alright? I noticed those men suffering symptoms off chem addiction, and figured they'd try to mug you," he said in a careful way, as if the language was unfamiliar to him.

"I'm fine, thank you," she said. "I believe I am in your debt, Mr..."

"Lonely Fire. Or just Fire works," he said simply, shrugging. Then it dawned on her: the scar, the name, the speech, this man was a tribal. And a capable one from the looks of the two corpses he just made examples of.

"So what brings a tribal like yourself to this shit hole?"

"Some raiders burned most of my village to the ground, and killed some of my people. I am now on a personal mission to bring down the Snake Gang." The passiveness left his eyes and now there was only aggressiveness. She perked up at the Snake Gang. He noticed and gave her a curious look.

"They killed some friends of mine. The details aren't important. Come with me." She turned and walked back home, with Fire in pursuit.

"We both need something, and we want the same thing. We both want those raiders six feet under."

"Agreed. And you can certainly handle your weapon well," he said, eyeing the streets for any more would be muggers. They walked into her shack, a simple one roomed building that consisted of a bed, a couch, an empty bookshelf, and a table complete with chairs and a radio. The dog curled up at the door and slept. Fire smiled sadly at the dog, then he walked to the table and sat. She sat opposite of him.

"I was trained by the 1st Recon to be a marksman. I don't know if it means anything to you, but chances are that I am the best shot within a hundred miles. However, if anyone gets close, i'm more vulnerable. But you, you seem to have a way with close quarter combat," she said as handed him some brahmin jerky she had on the table. He ravenously tore into it. "When's the last time you ate, Fire?"

"My arrival two days ago," he said, now drinking from his water skin. "Thank you, i have not seen much kindness in this town, even if it is only from mutual benefit. I've had to sleep in an alley because the tavern refused to lease rooms to a tribal." His facial expression was blank, but his eyes showed his emotions: flaring like bonfires, this one had rage in him.

"Well, feel free to spend the night here. Or until we leave, it'll be good to not need to worry about intruders," Maya said, brushing her hair from her hazel eyes. He could only nod, then he set his pack down beside his chair, and he looked her in the eye.

"So, asides from marksmanship, what else do you bring to the table?"

"Well, me and some other young people were trained as failsafe guerrilla fighters, for a war out west. I can operate basic explosives, and can apply basic field aid, but my speciality was infiltration. Sneaking, lock picking, and a little bit of seductiveness." She had an edge in her voice with the last part, but he decided to leave it be. If she wanted him to know, she would have volunteered the information. "How about you?"

"I can handle smaller firearms ok. And I really know how to operate with my bow. You've seen my melee and H2H capabilities earlier. Asides from that, just using nature's fruits for sustenance. Now, if I may, i have a question about how we shall proceed."

"Shoot," Maya replied.

"Just the three of us? There may be several dozen at their camp," he commented in a very calculative way. Maya liked that. Showed her new partner was at least somewhat intelligent. "We are formidable, it seems, but surely we are not enough. Do you know of anyone who would assist us in our goal?"

"Matter of fact...I do," she said, smiling as she thought of the only other person in town she cared for. In himself, he wasn't impressive. But with the help of someone like Fire, he could perhaps be the most important asset to them. "But we will worry about that tomorrow. I think we both need sleep, the adrenaline has left me exhausted. She turned to her bed, sat on it, then looked to see Fire setting down a furry bed roll on her floor.

"Mother fucker, you ain't sleeping on the floor," she said sharply. He looked up confused, and she pointed to the couch she had across the way from the table. "Sleep comfortably, damn it. You're giving me a shot at revenge, the least I can do is make sure you remain comfortable until we depart. He nodded, then lugged his gear to the couch and collapsed. He was snoring within seconds. She glanced over him, seeing almost a new person. He seemed...peaceful. She was just thankful he was on her side, she thought as she surrendered to sleep herself.


	4. Chapter 4

_** Chapter 4: Lightning Warfare**_

_**(I do not own Fallout or anything in Fallout, just my OCs. All stuff from Fallout is property of Bethesda. Also, to make note of pattern, I shall attempt to pot new chapter for this story every other day. If i have advanced notice of absence, I shall notify in the next chapter i post my dates of absence. If I don't have warning, then I shall post explanation and apology afterwords. Either way, i shall post all missing chapters at same time to make up for lost time. Enjoy, and please leave a comment. Feedback is good.)**_  
__

Emerald green eyes looked over the cluttered workshop, and approved. William McCleod, the owner of said eyes, smiled warmly, running a hand through his clean cut platinum hair. In less than 3 years, he amassed all of it. His mentor would've been proud of him. The smile then slipped...but he left that life, so long ago, it seemed. He shrugged, then sat back down and continued on his newest project: applying iron sights to his trusted laser pistol.

Just as he finished up, there was a knock at his door. He quickly got up and placed the laser pistol to the door and looked through the peephole. He saw a familiar beret wearing brunette standing there. There was also a rugged and scarred stranger behind her and a dog with a wagging tail, but he dismissed the idea of them as threats. He trusted Maya's judgement. He quickly unbolted the lock and let them in.

"Will, great to see you again, you tinkering fuck," said Maya playfully as she slugged his arm. "Will McLeod, this here is Lonely Fire, a native who has more reason than either of us to hunt down a very specific gang." She said every bit of it with cheer Will hadn't seen since before she lost her scavenging team. Then it hit him: they had a way to find the Snakes, as well as, perhaps, the numbers, provided they had surprise...and retrieved his equipment from his old life.

Now, Fire spoke for the first time, asking, "So I understand you are an engineer?" He was looking across the workshop with awe. Will concluded it was natural: as a tribal, he probably never saw an eigth of what he was seeing now. Will nodded.  
"Tell me of your skills, I am most curious." He spoke almost over cautiously, with a unique accent. Interesting.

"Well, I was trained out west in hacking, basic sciences, repairs, and how to handle energy weapons, of varying sizes," he said, with Fire now looking at a Laser LMG. "I am also capable of piloting a vertibird. Are you familiar with aircraft?"

"The concept. Never seen a working one, but one of my tribe's people told me about a crash site a ways from here, in the north," said the tribal, now inspecting several pulse grenades. This caught Will's attention.

"Then it's probably mine. I flew several people here from the Mojave Wasteland. My last journey I got shot down, don't ask how, I didn't even think there was any anti-air guns here. I crashed several clicks from the Snake's headquarters. I had to choose between bringing my passengers, or retrieving my gear...the bird is on lockdown, I modified it as a failsafe long ago. But i'm worried the defenses have since faltered. I need to go back not for revenge, but to make sure they don't get their hands on the cargo."

"Why have you not since gone back to retrieve whatever you're so worried about them getting whatever was in there?"

"Because, it's too dangerous without a guide. Besides, never had the numbers needed to. Now, thanks to you, we have both."

"One last question: can you reload ammunition? We are both somewhat short oncaps, and at times a pistolais more useful than a bow."

"More than just reload. I can modify, create, et cetera. Anything special you guys need?"

"I have these," said the tribal as he produced a pouch and handed it to Will. The latter opened it to find several dozen casings for what looked like a .357, but upon closer inspection, saw it was .38 special. Still, the gun could probably use the rounds interchangeably, depending on which one kind it was. He threw the pouch on his reloading bench, then turned to his guests.

"I'll need at least a day. Maybe two," Will said, walking to a door an opening it, revealing a dusty mannequin equipped with a a dusty, though rust free, set of heavy armor. "Got to fix some things that weren't needed here. If you two desire anything fixed, leave it here, i'll handle it."

"We are fine. We shall see you in a couple of days," said Maya, smiling like crazy now that revenge was so close. Will smiled, being thankful for hisold friend, as well as his new ally. He stuck his hand out to Fire to shake, half worried that the tribal was unfamiliar with handshakes. But when a firm hand grasped his, and their eyes locked, he knew then and their, they would all achieve their goals and put down their common enemy. Will couldn't glanced at all his energy weapons, and smiled. Time for some good old lightning warfare."


	5. Chapter 5

**_Chapter 5: The Night Before_**

_(I_**_ do not own Fallout. Only my OCs THis chapter is mostly meant to fill in on the heroes of the past two games so that the world as it is can be better explained by brief describtion of the Courier & Lone Wanderer. Agan, please feel freeto comment and give feedback. All feedback is good feedback.)_**

"So, you think we are ready? We seem to have everything in order," commented Lonely Fire. The group of four was together in Maya's home, pouring over a map. Fire was scratching Ofi behind his ears as he said this. They were set to leave at first light, and this time, to accommodate for Will, Fire was going to sleep on the floor.

"Yeah, we have enough jerky, as well as other trail foods, to last us a while. I also loaded that ammunition for you,as was asked, as well as some extras for both of you," said Will, sitting on the couch in his heavy metal armor, cleaning his gatling laser.

"Ok, that's good. Now, I have a question: how is it you manage to fight in that? Seems too..cumbersome," Fire motioned to the heavy armor.

"What? Are you kidding me?" Will smiled playfully. "It is like having a wall of protection between you and whatever wants to hurt you. Now, I don't quite understand how the hell you manage to fight in those patchworks. Someone like Maya could use something like that, but you prefer to be much closer. Why not something a little sturdier?"

"Mobility," Fire said, shrugging. "When most of your adversaries are cumbersome creatures with no way to attack but close in, being maneuverable is more important. Besides, I have less weight to worry about."

"Well, i'll tell you, that's all fine and dandy," Will said, now looking to Maya, "but medium armor is without a doubt the worst thing there is. No mobility, or protection." He heavily over exaggerated the last sentence to get a rise from Maya, and all the beret wearing sniper did was give him a stare far more deadly than one of her bullets. His smile dropped as he mumbled an apology and looked at the floor, to which Fire chuckled lightly.

"Oh, I almost forgot, it's about time," Maya said, bouncing up and retrieving her radio. Will rolled his eyes, and muttered something under his breath. About the same time, Fire heard an unusual voice begin to speak.

"Why, hello audience, this is another news update from Galactic News Radio, South. I'd like to thank y'all for staying tuned in weekly since we first came on the air three months ago," the voice speaking was certainly vibrant. Fire concluded the man was certainly a charismatic person. Maya was totally enthralled, and Fire could see Will roll his eyes. "As y'all may know, we've spoken much of two different, though very similar, individuals who keep up the Good Fight still to this day. I speak of course of the legendary figures, the Lone Wanderer and the Courier, respectively. The two were polar opposites in some regards, like how 101 was a giant of a man legendary for his prowess with to kill anything, anyway, whereas lucky Six was a smooth talker who never packed more than a revolver and relied on her honied words to stop most conflicts. Well, both were valuable to the Good Fight. He is currently building a town in the Capital Wastes to train wastelanders to protect themselves, after forcing the Enclave out of the East, and she has become the greatest thing to happen to New Vegas, having opened up diplomacy with the NCR and beating back the Legion. They both ejected organizations that would seek to oppress the people, and they have served as champions of the Good Fight. Matter of fact, rumors passed on from my contact up north, Three Dog, say that the two have been sending correspondence, and may actually be planning on a meeting to share knowledge of the secrets of each side of this land, so that the people may better their lives. Is this true? I do not know. But stay tuned in over the next month, we may learn more. Now, I believe it is time for some music. This has been the Speaker, and thanks for listening." After that, some music began to play that was completely alien to Fire. Maya turned off the station, and Will laughed.

"C'mon, Maya, you don't really believe that do you? That two of the arguably most influential people may meet to share ideas and such? It's just too good to be true," Will said with obvious disbelief.

"You've met her. You know she is the type," Maya said, a little bit defensively. "And weirder things have happened. We both know that."

"Yeah, but what about HIM? We don't know him. And anyone who's tough enough to have legends about him taking out a deathclaw with a freaking sword is definitely not the type to 'share ideas'," Will said.

"Just you watch, it'll happen," she said, suddenly a lot more sullen.

"Hey, it's our last night here," said Fire, retrieving a bottle of wine from the shelf, as well as a few mismatched cups. "We should enjoy ourselves, while we can."

"Amen to that, brother. Top mine off," Will said, and Maya nodded to agree, both having forgot the near argument. Fire filled two glasses, and half filled the third.

"What, not a drinker, Fire? I thought tribals loved booze," Maya said.

"Some do. I'm in the middle," he shrugged, distributing the cups. "Besides, I don't like drinking a full taza whenever I know I have a lot of work to come."

Will raised his cup, then said, "I propose a toast, to our overcautious tribal. And to new friendships."

"To friendship!" Both Maya and Fire said, the enthusiasm being Maya's, and they all drank. Fire looked at his two new friends, masking his amusement, and wondered if their journy would be successful. At the moment, he did not care. He just anted one night to be carefree. All he'd done since the raid was put on a stoic mask. He stopped caring, then let the warmth put him at ease, and they enjoyed their last night of comfort for some time, as friends.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Chapter 6: Welcome to the Party**_

_**(I do not own Fallout, or any of their characters. That is all Bethesda's. Hence, it is THEIR'S. That is all.)**_

_"_Ugh, you fuckers could have told me not to fill my cup," Maya said, a little hungover. Will laughed, and Fire chuckled. He always thought no one noticed. While it was hard to spot, Maya was trained specifically to pick up on small details. She'd need to tell him about it. He had too nice of a smile to hide all of the time.

"Well, I did state why I only filled mine halfway," said Fire, more interested in the map and guiding them through the forrest. They've been on the road for several hours now, and while navigating, he became even more withdrawn then usual.

"Well, if you drank more, maybe you wouldn't be a lightweight. Besides, no one told you to take seconds. Or thirds. Or fourths," Will said, his never faulting smile well...never faulting. His cheery mood was seriously pissing off Maya. "Or fi-"

"I GET IT," snapped Maya. That shut the juggernaut up. For a while, the only sound that accompanied their footsteps was Ofi's running around. The dog would sometimes leave them for as long as thirty minutes, but it would always come back. Maya looked up at the bright sun and cringed. Maybe those fellows up in Utah had the right idea about skimping on the booze after all.

They stopped at a clearing, and it was pretty obvious that they were in the right place. The ground was still displaced from the landing, and there, in a crater, was the vertibird. Maya always wondered how a private individual like Will had a personal vertibird. It had no markings, NCR, Enclave, or otherwise to show he stole it. But if he was rich enough to have one of his own, why did he have to work? Even back in the Mojave, he'd run a repair shop. As he approached the machine, he had an unreadable look on his face. Huh, apparently that smile does falter, Maya thought dryly. He was quick to getting to work on unlocking the bird, and upon entrance found that everything was as he left it.

When he emerged, he tossed a glove like item to Fire, and handed Maya a mod for her rifle. When she saw what it was, her knees went weak. It was a silencer. For whatever reason, they were almost impossible to find east of Arizona. For a sniper, this was truly a great gift. She turned to Fire, and realize that his gift was even more unique: Will had, somehow, gotten his hands on a Pip-Boy 3000. Once again, she was left with a million questions for the technical wizard.

"Those are my way of saying thanks," he called. He turned to reenter, then had a bullet slam into his shoulder, causig him to stumble. Maya swung around and found the offender, a rather grimy woman with a hunting rifle that had honestly seen better days. Maya turned her head into a mist of red spray immediately.

"I'm fine," called Will from behind her, getting up.

"Not for long, theres more," said Fire as he retrieved his gun and took cover in the crater. Maya did the smart thing and followed suit.

"Hold them off, theres one more thing I need," called Will as he ducked back in. Maya dropped everyone she could get a shot off on as quickly as possible, but despite getting bout four bodies, there were still at least 20 of the attackers, using trees for cover. A few almost made it to them, but Fire would put them down immediately with his six shooter. One actually made his way to the crater, but Ofi ripped his throat open before he could harm anyone.

"Almost ready? We could really use your fucking piece," shouted Maya, hangover now forgotten amongst the action. What happened next was surprising, and she wasn't sure who was more surprised, her and Fire or the raiders.

"I'm done," said Will's voice. However, it differed from usual. It had a metallic quality to it, like he was speaking from a radio. Before she could turn to see, he crawled from the crater. Several dozen rounds pinged into him, and he didn't even acknowledge them. Then Maya saw why. It wasn't the metal armor he wore previously. He was fully protected by what looked like...power armor?

He then proceeded to let the lasers fly, and within minutes, all of the attackers were either dead or fleeing. He turned to his companions, and Maya's jaw dropped. On his chest, plain as day, was a pale green wreath with a sword in the middle of it. The Brotherhood man chuckled.

"Welcome to the party, friends." Now they truly had a tank. Good, Maya thought. We need it.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Chapter 7: Pasts**_

_**(I do not own Fallout. That belongs to Bethesda. HOWEVER, i got more to talk about for once. I got my first review, and to be honest, it was blunt and to the point. And that just makes it great. Any feed back is GOOD feed back. Please, feel free to leave reviews. And thank y'all for reading.)**_

Will stood in the open looking at his friends, with little fear of an attack should the raiders return. Nothing short of explosives were likely to harm him much, especially with the upgrades this armor underwent.

"Why did you fail to mention you were part of the arguably the best trained, and equipped, group in the wasteland? It makes no sense," Maya said, crawling from her cover. Fire and Ofi followed suit, both still overly wary of their situation, glancing at trees for the jerky motions of raiders.

"I didn't want to bring it up. That's a lifetime and many painful experiences ago," Will said, removing his helmet. He noticed she was staring at his armor. Made sense, it was the only set like it in existence. "Before you ask, not, this isn't standard issue. I modified it when I was still in the Brotherhood. I like to call it the T-51B. I'll tell you more later, but first we need to find a place to set up camp. The sun will set soon."

"I say here," Fire said, finally done checking for stragglers.

"Wait, why? They'll come back," Maya said.

"Doubtful," said Fire, hopping back into the crater. "One thing about raiders is that they are horrible about predicting anomalies. They'll probably assume we ran off. Idgits. Besides, we already have shelter here." And Will realized the truth to his words. The vertibird very well may have been the sturdiest thing in miles. Certainly better than most the shit shacks in Port Rust. Just locking it down from the inside would mean they wouldn't need to have a sentry, so they could all have good rest.

"Ok. Just don't break anything. I want to repair her one of these days," Will said, dropping back in after Fire. Maya carefully examined the tree line one last time, then followed her companions.

Later, in the well lit and surprisingly comfortable aircraft, they were all much at ease and tending to their equipment. Will was sipping on a nuka cola when Maya decided to begin her questions.

"So, why'd you leave? I mean, Brotherhood, that's got to be cool," Maya said, sitting in one of the passenger seats, applying her upgrade.

"Me and the Elders didn't see eye to eye," he said simply, finishing his beverage. "Some of us younger ones, like my mentor Veronica and I, were getting restless, we wanted to help the people, not just to follow the Codex. I was actually planning on going to D.C. after that last fly. We all know i'm here in Louisiana instead, for now anyway."

"Ah," she simply said, rubbing her hands together, obviously deep in thought.

"You know, if there's anything else you wish to ask, by all means, i'm an open book," he said, laying back, a little sore from all the shots he took.

"Ok," she began. "Your armor looks...different then the pictures i've seen of Brotherhood gear. It almost looks like a blend of BoS and..."

"Enclave," he said. "That's because I found a damaged Enclave suit once and used it for scraps to modify my T-51 armor. I like to call it the T-51-U. All the internal advantages of both the T series, as well as the Enclave series, without making it look overly freaky or impacting my maneuverability. I take pride in my work on this. Took me weeks to get it rigged, but once I did, I had the greatest suit of power armor currently known of."

"So, if the Snakes knew it was here," Fire cut in, cooking some sort of kabobs on a jury rigged camp stove he always had with him, "that they could have possessed it?"

"Which in itself wouldn't be bad," Will said. "I doubt any of them have had training in power armor usage. But say someone like the Enclave, or the Talon mercenaries, caught wind? Then we may have an issue."

"I am glad we could help get your armor back," said Maya, now examining the former Brotherhood man in new light.

"Me too," he said with one of his trademark smiles. "Now, since I spilled my guts, y'all owe me the same."

"Ok," Maya said, smiling at their new game to pass the time. Anything you want to know?"

"Tell me bout that beret of yours. I never seen any of the freedom fighters with one like that," Will said.

"Actually, it was a gift from a fire team who saved me from the Legion. They dyed it, then presented it to me after they trained me. I always have it to remind me that in the end, one well placed shot can stop a lot of unfortunate events from taking place."

"Ok. Now onto you, Fire," Will looked at their tribal companion as he sat with his friends, food now ready. "Your name? Does it mean anything?"

"Actually, yes," said the native as he took his first bite from his meal. "It means that I am destined to carry a burning inside of me, for all of my days, with no one to help shoulder the burden." His voice was matter of fact, and he didn't seem to care.

"So you're celibate?"

"No. Sex is optional," said the tribal, eyes now glazed over as he thought of things they couldn't think of. Sometimes, Will wished he could be in that mind, just fir one day. "It means that while I may have companionship, it simply is not in my nature to share my load if I can help it. And in my culture, being solitary isn't bad within itself. As long as we remain civil to others, it's condoned. Time with only oneself's company can hp lead to better understanding of one's one self."

"Huh," Maya said. "Never thought of it that way."

"So, it's not a shameful title so much as a description of your personality? Very interesting," Will said, now reaching for a kabob of his own.

"Yeah...we all have a past," Fire said. Something was eating at Will, as if a certain event occurred in Fire's past to cause his name choice. He decided against asking. The native would tell them when he was ready. Will grabbed another nuka cola and sipped. Soon, all of them would complete their task. He wondered if that would be the end of their time together. Well, he thought, whatever happens, happens.


	8. Chapter 8

**_Chapter 8: Payback, Bitch!_**

**_(Hey guys, again, don't own Fallout, so no sue. Also, to increase quality of the chapters, I shall now post every four days instead of two. Thank y'all for making it this far into the story, please comment on any improvements I can make.)_**

Fire was examining his new toy, the Pip-Boy that Will gave him the previous day. Ultimately, the added weight on his arm wasn't too much to throw him off, and the inventory system was useful. So were the maps and radio. He was pleased with the gift.

He looked over to his still sleeping companions, allowing a sad smile to his face. He'd grown rather attached to them in the short time period he'd known them. He knew he had go return to the village after his errand; however, he didn't need to stay. As he played with his thoughts, his friends began to stir. He prepared a jerky sandwich for each of them, and left them by their heads.

"Hey, food," Will commented, getting up now. "I like food."

"Aw, thanks Fire. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day," Maya yawned. He only nodded as they ate, sipping on a nuka cola. They never had many refrescos in his village. He had to admit, he had a bit of a soft spot for them.

"Ok, I have devised a plan," he said as they finished their meal. He held up his Pip-Boy, showing a map of the Snake's camp: an old plantation. "Will, I request that you make a distraction for me so i may slip in and take out whoever is in charge. Your armor should attract their attention well enough, and at least half will launch an attack on you." The juggernaut nodded, turning towards his armor to put it on.

"Maya, there is a ridge here," Fire pointed the location out on the map, "that I would like you to set up shop at. Pick off anyone from a distance you can. That should make Will's job easier." She nodded, examining the map. There was a ridge some says in front of the front doors. It was a good place for someone of her talents.

"Hey, long as I get to send some of those bastards to hell," she commented, grabbing her rifle.

"And i'll leave Ofi with you," he said. "You never know when you will need someone to watch your flank." She nodded, and their four legged barked at hearing his name. Fire grabbed his gear, making sure the grenades that Ringo gave him were easily accessible. He had no clue what he would face in there. He felt it was better to be safe than sorry.

*Later*

Fire crept through the back of the old plantation when he heard the familiar sound of Will's laser gatling. As he crept around the building, tomahawk in hand, he heard the deeper bark of Maya's rifle occasionally, as well. He entered the foyer of the old home, clearing room to room. The place seemed deserted. He assumed everyone was outside, so he turned to join the fray, only to hear a whistle. He looked up to see a grimy man of about 35, smiling like a demon before a victim is robbed of their soul.

"So, you're the twerp who's responsible for offing most of my men the other day? From what the survivor said, i'd have thought you'd be older. Or at the very least, taller," he said in a voice typically associated with raiders: gruff, psychotic, and angry. However, he also showed signs of a mind that wasn't addled by chems. A smart raider is a dangerous one.

"Save any deal you intend," Lonely Fire said, raising his tomahawk to point at the man. "My name is Lonely Fire del gente mojado. You and your men attacked my village, killing some of my blood." Fire could feel the flames of resentment inside him burning, refusing to be extinguished. "I shall bring your head to my people for your crimes."

"I like your guts kid," the raider remarked, then cackled, "I can't wait for my pet to smear the room with them!" Just then, from a doorway Fire had not checked, a tall, armored figure walked through. Natural armor. A dark, almost black, appearance gave it an ominous aura. Four eyes hungrily looking him over. At ten feet, Fire knew it was only an adolescent. Didn't make it any less dangerous. Fire was having a stare down with a dragón.

He quickly yanked his revólver from his holster and shot the raider in the leg. If he died fighting this beast, he wanted the fucker to bleed out. He then turned to the charging beast, and unloaded the gun, attempting to blind it. While he hit it's skull, certainly damaging it, he was unable to blind it. He threw his revólver to the side and adjusted his grip on his tomahawk, jumping to the side as it snapped at him and slashing at it's snout, bloodying it even more. As it turned to swipe at him with it's powerful arms, he did the craziest thing anyone has ever done in the wastes: he stepped towards it, hacking at it's soft underbelly, creating a large wound. He then grabbed a grenade, planted it in the wound as the beast roared in agony, and pulled the pin. He barely had enough time to jump behind the cover of a ruined couch before the beast exploded, painting the room crimson. As Fire retrieved his weapon, he noticed that the head was intact, though detached from the body. He grabbed it before heading up the stairs to meet the murderous bastard in charge of the slaughter of some of his people.

"What do you know, you really are one tough shit," the man gasped, grasping at his thigh. Fire could tell from the location of the wound he hit an artery. "Thank you," the raider said, much to the surprise of Fire. He pulled his shirt off, revealing a collar on his neck with some weird wiring. "I never wanted this. I was sent here because I was a political prisoner. They hear everything I say, so forgive me for my rude introduction. There is a key in my pocket. Take it to the safe in the room that Spike was in. Take the contents."

"Why are you helping me? You are responsible for the death of my people," Fire said, still seething with anger.

"I want to make amends. I can only hope-" the man was cut off as the collar around his neck exploded, leaving a ringing in Fire's ear, and a bloodlust that needed to be sated. He retrieved the key, and walked down to the room to find the safe. He opened it and retrieved a folder marked "Project Lima". He skimmed it, and knew what he needed to do. As he exited the building, he came across his friends coming up to the structure. Their eyes widened as they saw the head in his hand.

"I take it it's over? I mean, you're holding THAT," Maya said, pointing to the head. She looked exhausted. Fire looked over to Will, who's armor was beaten and dented.

"No, it's only just begun," Fire said, holding up the folder. "Next on our shit list: the Louisiana chapter of the Enclave."


	9. Chapter 9

**_Chapter 9: Project: Lima_**

**_(Ok guys I got my 1st fan this week so yay. Thank y'all for sticking with me to this chapter. I will just point out some things. When i spoke of "correspondence" between the Lone Wanderer & the Courier, i was referring to good old fashioned letters. Secondly, i renamed Will's armor due to being told that the original name was used in game. I apologize, Power armor ain't my strong suit, pun alert, and I should have researched more. Thanks to my #1 fan. Now, remember, I don't own Fallout.)  
_**  
Maya woke up, and stood from the bed. Ever since they captured the plantation a week before, she and her companions have made use of the old building as a headquarters of sorts. She and Fire have spent most of their time refurnishing the structure, while Will spent most his time working on his vertibird. If the folder Fire had found was at all truthful, they would certainly need both.

"Morning, amiga," Fire said, strolling in. Instead of his usual tribal patchwork armor, he wore an ensemble that resembled what traders would wear, his hair now hanging freely around his neck.

"You didn't sleep, did you? You look active," Maya said groggily. Sometimes, the tribal seemed more like a protectron than human.

"No," he said, showing no signs of exhaustion. "I had to bury him. He redeemed himself in the end. I may not forgive him, but I at least owe him for warning me about the Enclave. I hope he finds Chihowa in the next life."

"And what of the others?" She had no idea what Chihowa was, but obviously it was important to the tribal for the dead to find it.

"From the folders Francis," he spoke the leader's name with an unreadable tone, "was the only one forced into this. The others willingly signed on. I left their corpses by the old cabins, for the animals. They deserve infierno."

Again, she had no clue what he meant, but she didn't want to offend him by saying something, so she just got up. Looking out the window, she wondered how long they'd need to be here. She thought back to what Fire told them when he revealed the contents of Project: Lima.

*One Week Earlier*

"According to this," Fire said, showing the folder to his friends, "this was all a ruse. Most of the prople here were Enclave prisoners who were given a choice at early release so they may wear down the locals."

"Why? The Enclave ain't been even remotely active within several states," said Will, removing his helmet so that he may breathe better.

"Since what occurred at Navarro and D.C," Fire said, flipping through the folder, "they've needed a new headquarters. I suppose lack of civilization makes this region ideal. Especially if devoid of tribals and scavengers." Anger flared up in Maya's eyes, and Fire shared an opinion with her: they had more work to do.

*Present*

"So, what's your plan, Fire?"

"I'm thinking we find that radio station, and use it to recruit. I mean, this seems right up their alley," Fire remarked nonchalantly. He had Maya at "radio station".

"Wait, radio station? As in GNRS!?" She had a smile on her face that stretched ear to ear.

"Yes...you're a rather loyal fan, I take it?"

"Oh, you have no idea. I always listen to their broadcasts," she said. Then, with an added pout, "But I am going to miss tonight's."

"Umm...my Pip-Boy has a radio, remember?"

"Oh can we please listen? Pleeeeeeease? Ill do all your chores," she said. she couldn't see it, but he smiled inwardly, having just seen a new side to his friend.

"Sure. And no extra chores," he said. She hugged him tight. She didn't know why, but he felt pleasant to hug. Like a pillow, or a stuffed animal.

"Ok, well we should hurry up and finish," she said. He only nodded, and they made their way down to complete their work.


	10. Chapter 10

**_Chapter 10: The News_**

(Once more, I do not own Fallout. Also, I know this one's short, but I had an issue with uploading the chapter last time, & I reeeeelly want to get into the next three chapters. Introduce some major behind the scenes characters, for better or worst. Mostly better.)

Will came home that night in a wonderful mood. His bird was operational again, and he had enough time to oil the kinks in his armor. Nothing could go wrong today it seemed. At least until he heard what Fire and Maya were listening to upon entering the foyer.

"Good evening, my brothers and sisters, it is I, the Speaker, speaking the truth," said the damned idiot from over a radio. Upon realizing it was from Fire's Pip-Bo, Will suddenly regretted giving the thing to Fire. He should have known that Maya would press him into tuning into that idiot. For all his talk, he never picked up a gun and did a fight himself. Rumor had it he had a detachment of soldiers from somewhere to help out. "Sounds like we have a new champion of the Good Fight down here in Louisiana. Y'all know the Snakes, right? Aggressive raiders? Well, not anymore. A group consisting of a tribal, presumably the leader, a large man in power armor, a young woman with a large ass sniper rifle, and a dog have been reportedly spotted by their old haunt. What's more, there was a huge heap of bodies too unkempt to not be raiders only a short ways away. We haven't got too much dirt on them yet, but you can be certain that if we get the chance, we'll interview the hell outa them! If y'all are out there, swing by Old Dest sometimes and introduce yourselves. We'd compensate y'all well for it. Now this has been the Speaker. Till next time, siblings!"

Will scoffed on the inside. He knew Fire would want to go, and rightfully so. They needed the supplies. They may have even been able to use the station to recruit new people to their cause. Still, he didn't like the idea of it at all. So with that, he joined his friends in the foyer with a slightly dampened mood. However, in the end, the good outweighed the bad and when he laid to rest, he did so with a smile.


	11. Chapter 11

**_Chapter 11: Quarrelsome _**

**_(I do not own Fallout. Also, this chapter isn't to important to the overall story, just a glance at what shaped the world of Fallout in my story. However, it will be brought up later so by all means, continue reading.)_**

Wolf was returning from his bimonthly trip between the Citadel and Megaton. It'd been three years since Dogmeat died. The 7'6 foot giant ran a meaty hand through his unkempt brown hair, his beard equally unkempt. He didn't care, it deterred trouble with bandits. Looking around with his milky pale eyes, he decided treading carefully wasn't important. He only had his axe from Point Lookout with him, but he feared no attack. He hadn't since Dogmeat died. He thought back to that fateful day that sent him into a downward spiral.

*Three Years Prior*

"Sic em, Dogmeat," called Wolf as he led Charon, Cross, and Fawkes in clearing out a raider nest in the D.C. outskirts. He needed to keep them all sharp with training. Back then he was still clean shaven and kept his hair short. As he told his faithful friend, the dog obeyed, and leapt at the nearest raider, tearing her throat out in a brutal fashion. In his power armor, armed with his toy from Maryland, he was having a field day. Wolf wasn't an overly violent man, but whenever he was in a fight, a more...primal part of him emerged. He remembered his father once told him he was named after a peerless warrior from the past, Wolf the Quarrelsome. He thought the name oddly appropriate.

Just then, as the last raider fell, Dogmeat ran back, wagging his tail with pure delight. Wolf dropped down on a knee to greet his friend. That was when his life changed.

The sound of laser fire sounded out, and Wolf heard Dogmeat yelp one last time before a cloud of ashes covered him. When he realized that the ashes were once Dogmeat he snapped. He shouted a purely primeval shout, and lunged towards the sound. Laser after laser hit him, but he felt nothing. He found a raider hiding behind the cover of a traffic stop, and grabbed him. He simply grabbed his head in one hand, and his torso in another, and pulled. The bastard's screams dim, Wolf saw red, and as he felt the head pop off, he knew more had to pay. He ran to the next nest, only to have Charon and Fawkes attempt to hold him back. He drove an elbow in Charon's side, cracking a rib, and used the blade of his hand to break Fawkes's nose. He simply dove in the hole, to be greeted almost immediately by the shrieks of his victims.

Cross attended to Charon and Fawkes's injuries, and then they waited. After the screams died, and he had yet to emerge, they went in after him. They saw more carnage than they ever considered humanly possible. Limbs torn asunder, organs spread about, and not an inch of the floor was dry of blood or other bodily fluids. They found him scraping the ashes off his skin with a butter knife, putting them in an empty bottle. A crude D was etched into the cap, and no one in the room didn't miss their furry friend.

He turned and looked at them, his eyes apologetic, and yet hard. He would never be the same.

*Present*

"Hey boss," Charon called to Wolf as he saw him from the motley crew set up a house near the Citadel so that they may have access, and yet privacy. Sarah would come sometimes, but no one else would. They preferred it that way.

"Morning Charon. Where's the others? Y'all are typically here," called Wolf.

"Cross went to visit Rivet City for supplies, and Fawkes went by 101 to get your correspondence from Amata," said the ghoul. He never let it on, but he always saw Wolf as his favorite employer. He actually treated him like a person. For that, if he ever was broken from the contract, as the Wolf had tried since he saved his life at Project Purity, he would remain with him. He owed Wolf that.

Wolf nodded, he turned to head inside, but was stopped by Charon, who handed him a letter. He recognized the handwriting on the cover, and grabbed it. On the outside was simply a large L. He opened it, awaiting a long, flowery letter like the many he'd gotten before on aligning two regions for mutual benefits. They've been that way since he first contacted her months ago. Instead, it was only one sentence:

_"Where do you wish to meet, Wolf?"_


	12. Chapter 12

**_Chapter 12: Smooth Talker_**

**_(Do not own Fallout, I wish I did. Just the OCs.)_**

Luna woke up in her penthouse room in the Lucky 38, sun shining on her and giving her a joyful sight to wake up to. As the short woman slipped into her "city clothes" she hummed a spanish tune, like mama taught her. Keeping her police revolver from the Sierra Madre strapped to the small of her back, and her gift .45 from Joshua holstered on her hip, she made her rounds of the Lucky 38. Boon and Cass were out hunting, Rex was with King, and Lily was doing tests with Dr. Henry, she knew all this.

She found Arcade and Veronica tinkering with ED-E, and left the two to their work. They've busied themselves with tech and each other's company. It was kind of ironic to think of how good of a match the two could have been, if it wasn't for the fact that neither preferred the opposite sex. Beside's, she had something of a falling out with Veronica, who was once her closest friend, when they learned that Luna met her lover, Christine, and never mentioned it. That was a while ago, and Luna figured...hoped...things would go back to how they were.

As she settled herself in her office in the presidential suite, she noticed Raul walk in the room with his fancy Vaquero outfit. Both being from Mexico, they often talked about their home and such. As he unslung his brush rifle to lean it against the chair he sat in, she handed him a cigar.

"Buenos diaz, abuelo," she said, smirking at the age joke. ¿Qué tal?" Good morning grandfather. How are you?

"Bien," he shrugged. "¿Y tu?" Fine. And you?

"¡Igualmente!" Same. In each other's company, they often spoke español to keep up. They already lost a large part of their accents, and the old man enjoyed brushing up on his natural tongue.

"So boss, I found a book for you, right up your alley," he said, passing her the book. It was pre-war, and mint condition. She gasped when she saw the author: Ayn Rand. She heard of the woman's books, but never found one, till now. It was Atlas Shrug.

"Got all that librarianism you like, if I ain't wrong," the old ghoul said.

"Libertarianism," she absentmindedly corrected him. She was always looking for advice from the past on governing her city. She placed the book next to one just as interesting, but more cautionary than this one: 1984.

"Boss...I have a request," he said in a tone totally different from his dry humorous one. "Don't go to D.C. The place isn't as stable as here, except for the immediate vicinity of the Citadel. What will we do if you go belly up? Cass keeps the place running whenever you're gone, but she can't handle the stress like you. Vegas can't afford to lose you."

"Relax, we decided long ago that we would me on neutral ground," she said, flipping trough NCR ball invitations. He seemed at ease and left wordlessly to allow here to finish her work.

She sat back, then began examining herself in the mirror. At 5'4, with boxy glasses and long, raven black hair tied back in a feminine fashion, she looked nothing like one would expect the most powerful person in the Mojave would expect. Her tanned skin and dark brown eyes were beautiful features she often used to her advantage: she always preferred talking to fighting. If a little seduction were to be involved...so be it. She was a practical woman after all. She did what was needed. She then came across a letter with only a paw print on it, then tore into it.

All of his letters were short. This one was no exception.

_"Meet me at The Dome in Orleans in three months."_

**_(Ok guy, one more chapter then we back to Fire for a bit. Hang in, and watch out for the Enclave. XD Till next time.)_**


	13. Chapter 13

_**Chapter 13: Quisling**_

_**(Please enjoy. Feel free to comment. I do not own Fallout. Sorry it's short again but had yet ANOTHER incident with saving the chapter to email draft. My apologies.)**_

Captain Clyde Quisling of the Enclave was listening to the recorded audio again. As he sat in the command center of the base, he marked out certain places on a map along the Gulf. The small man took a moment to run a hand through his hair, which was too long for regulation, despite the barber robot kept around that obviously could have handled it. After all, with no superior around, no one could directly order him to do it. His mud brown eyes lazily scanned the map, then he retreated deep into thought.

He knew he couldn't afford to let the upstarts who found out about Project Lima affect his plans. As he stood, a tall, armored figure appeared in the room. Despite the mask, he knew it was Captain Tom Johnson. His blood boiled at the thought of his counterpart: he was loved by the enlisted men, honorable, and sickeningly loyal. He was the very definition of foolishness. He even encouraged the men to avoid violence when possible. Idiot. He also had no clue of the entirety of Project Lima. He thought phase two was all there was to it. Little did he know that Quisling was ordered to carry out phase one: regional genocide. Johnson thought it was simply a mission to secure resources and set up a more stabilized base. Since the fall of Raven Rock.

"Quisling," he greeted, his power armor giving a unique sound to his rather mundane voice. The resentment was mutual. "Perimeter's secure, so we're safe for now."

Quisling only nodded, then watched as Johnson left. He was unable for the twit to die. He planned to kill him the next time they both left the base. Now, with the pests who were involved, he had a perfect excuse to do so. Soon, he would have sole command of the base. As he walked to his quarters, he smiled a rather unpleasant smile and thought of his plans. As he settled down, he reviewed what he heard from the last contact with the prisoner's collar: he was speaking to a tribal, obvious from the speech pattern and unique words. He also assumed that they would go to the local GNR building. He would have to tell Johnson to deploy some troops there later. As for now...

He turned on the screen in his room that showed the habitats beneath the structure, crawling with more of the beasts that made life in this swampy land hell. Only unlike what was at the recently lost plantation, these were all more mature.

"Soon," he mumbled, imagining how he would control the south when he time came.


	14. Chapter 14

_**Chapter 14: Knock Knock**_

(Again. I do not own Fallout.)  
  
Fire, Maya, and Ofi walked carefully along the heavily wooded path. They had been traveling for a couple days, and left Will to guard the plantation. Fire was glad to be back on the trail. He only ever felt right whenever he slept outside. Sure, walls kept men safer, but if freedom was the price for safety, then he wouldn't pay an ounce.

"So Fire, what do you expect him to be like?" Maya asked dreamily for the fifth time that day. Fire had NEVER met someone so proficient in combat who behaved so...naively. Not that it was a bad thing, per se. Fire certainly found it amusing.

"I have not a clue, amiga," he replied, and Ofi barked and ran off for some unseen creature. They saw the town from a distance, and decided to wait and rest a bit before they pushed on. As Fire unslung his bow for more comfortable seating, he let his mind drift to the past. He missed the communal meals of his people. One meal in particular.

"Maya, have what do you know of tribal cuisine?" He asked, now with a nostalgic smile.

"From the ones down here? Only that it is spicy as fuck and that once you get used to it, it's the best eating around. Why? Home sick?" She asked, now tinkering with her sniper rifle to make sure it was well maintained.

"No, just nostalgic of the food. No offense, but you civilized folk can't cook for shit," he chuckled, now grabbing a water bottle from his pack. He drank, then threw the bottle back in his pack. "Now, for a bowl of gumbo, I'd kill someone for that. Mmm, just have some mirelurk meat and some sausage, and that is a meal." The whole time he thought back to his time as a village trapper, thinking often about how he not only acquired, but also prepared, much of the village's food.

"Well, you tribals are lucky. You haven't lost the ability to cook unlike us 'civilized folk,'" Maya smiled. She was going to say more, but not Fire suddenly snapped to, and she had to observe the tribal's keen senses. At first, she didn't notice anything. Then, she noticed the issue: there was no sound. The forrest was silent. Then, she heard it. Rattling.

Fire just sat by, making no sudden movement. Maya was slowly lifting her rifle, but Fire just shook his head slowly, and she put it back down. Out of the brush came a mutated creature Maya had only seen too often in the west: a night stalker. It's snake head sat unnaturally upon it's canine body, and Fire just sat there, almost like he didn't care. Then he caught Maya off guard: he reached out for it and scratched it behind it's ear.

"Never heard of an Animal Friend?" He asked, noticing now the puzzled glance being shot at him. "Consider it a perk of my life. I'm sure you have similar things that happen to you."

"Eh. Nothing so cool. I just get stalked by a creepy guy in an overcoat who occasionally shows up to save my ass," she replied with a chuckle. Fire let out a massive laugh at that, in turn, made her chuckle elevate into another laugh.

"Alright, I think we should continue walking. We're almost there," Fire said, getting up. The night stalker now began to move on, and he smiled at it as it departed.

Eventually, after Ofi caught up, they reached the radio station. Upon knocking, they heard the by now familiar voice answer.

"Who's there? Don't you try anything stupid, we got enough fire power to take y'all," said the Speaker from the other side of the door.

"Not raiders," Fire commented. "In fact, you seemed to heap praise on me and my comrades on your show recently. You'd be surprised how comfortable that old plantation is."

"Wait, so you're- hold up," the Speaker now sounded excited as multiple locks were heard being opened. At last, the door swung open, and both Maya and Fire were surprised, though neither showed it.

"Welcome to the GNRS Station," said the Speaker, who was the first ghoul Fire ever met.


	15. Chapter 15

_**Chapter 15: Speaker**_

(Again, not my property.)  
  
Maya was awestruck. Sure, it was unseen that the Speaker was a ghoul, especially with his beautiful voice that flowed like crystal clear water down a mountain. But still, he was everything she expected him to be. Charming, profound, deep, and an idealist. In fact, she figured this out as he started recording the interview from how he spoke.

"Ok guys. We know little about you. Why not tell us your names? After all, I doubt Tribal Guy and Gun Woman would do y'all justice.

"Well, my name is Maya," Maya started. It was agreed that since Fire wasn't really a people person, she would answer most question. "This is Lonely Fire, and our friend who is absent as of now is William McLeod." Ofi barked, and she quickly added, "Oh, and how could I have forgotten Ofi?" The mutt wagged it's tail, and Speaker simply reached down and scratched him behind the ear.

"I bet you keep your friends safe, boy," he said in a way not entirely dissimilar to how Fire had acted with the night stalker. He then turned to the companions and asked, "So where are y'all from?"

"Me and Will come from out west. Specifically, the Mojave," Maya said. "We actually met the Courier, if you can believe it. Nice woman."

"Yes, I assume as much from what I have gathered," said the ghoul. He actually wasn't too rotten, at least for a ghoul. He was probably pretty young by their standards. His warm brown eyes helped ease any fear his appearance caused. In comparison to the icy eyes of Fire, ironically, the latter was the more intimidating of the two.

"Me and Ofi come from the Wet Folk tribe, actually," Fire said in a slightly nostalgic voice.

"You miss them, don't you? Your people, I mean," said the ghoul with a certain sense of understanding.

"Not a day goes by that they don't cross my mind like a damn squirrel darting across tree branches," Fire said with a dry chuckle.

"Then tell me, why leave them?"

"Our village was attacked," Fire said, his eyes staring into a past that Maya thought must have seemed so distant by now. "We hunted down the bolsas de basuras, but that wasn't the end of it. As it turns out, they were under orders from the Enclave. And we need your help, Speaker." With that, Fire handed Speaker the folder.

At the mention of the Enclave, the ghouls jaw dropped, revealing teeth that, remarkably, where almost pearly white. Maya wondered how the fuck he managed that. He skimmed through the folder, the surprise on his face only becoming greater.

"We need resources," Maya began. "We need an ally. But most importantly, we need a way to broadcast to the people that they too can help us repel the Enclave. We are here to ask for your help in the Good Fight."

Speaker sat still for a minute. He was still absorbing the information. When he spoke, there was a spark in his voice.

"Of course! Anything for some fellow freedom fighters," said the Speaker in such a full hearted way that the duo was a little taken back. Also, when he gave them a rather ghoulish smile, he added something that made them look at each other in puzzlement.

"In fact, I believe y'all will be pleasantly surprised by who happens to be on their way right now."


	16. Chapter 16

**_Chapter 16: La Famiglia_**

**_(Ok guys I FINALLY have rights to Fallout. Joking, of course I don't. All Bethesda. Feel free to review. All feedback is good, my only request is that it be polite.)_**

William was tinkering on his bird, clad in only a set of of old coveralls and armed with only his laser pistol. In the southern heat, the sweat glistened off his toned arms in a way that was slightly reminiscent of some people in a holotape he once found and was unfortunately scarred by. He felt a little lonely since the others left, but he also knew how important the bird was to their goal. As he stepped away from the aircraft, he took a moment to review what had been fixed on it.

The fuel tank, now modified to take diesel, was fixed, as was the basic frame of the flight craft. In fact, save for a lack of fuel, all it was entirely operational for flight. However, the guns were torn off, and were entirely ruined. Will knew that if he intended to use the bird for anything more than transport, he'd need to find a way to attach some other weapons. He was so deep in thought that he was completely oblivious go his new company.

"Ciao, my friend. I figure since we are now neighbors, we should welcome you," said a voice from behind Will. He turned to find a rather surprising sight. An old man of about sixty stood behind him, his grey hair slicked back in a unique way. The old man wore a suit that looked prewar, and how he could stand the heat was beyond Will. Due to his speech and tanned skin, Will assumed the man was of Mediterranean descent. His old brown eyes seemed to watch the younger man like a hawk.

"Well, hello there. I'm William McLeod," Will said, sticking out his hand for a handshake. "But please, call me Will."

The old man, having other ideas, pulled the confused Will close and hugged him. "I am Don Machiovelli de La Famiglia. Don shall do," said the old man as he stepped away. Will was more than puzzled by this strange man and his ways, but now he had some questions to ask.

"Who are 'we'? I only see you," Will said, scanning the tree line for any others. As one learned fast in the fucked up wasteland, not taking facts into account could be deadly.

"Friends," Don said. "Let's leave it at that...for now. You know, we have actually been planning on putting down the Snakes for several months now...I came here to thank you."

"How do I know I can trust you? For all I know, you could just be a distraction for an ambush," Will said, locking eyes with the man.

"Because, if the Don wanted you dead, I could have finished the job a while ago," said a younger voice immediately to Will's right. Again, he turned to see another man, this one much closer to his age, a rather stout guy with a five o'clock shadow. Unlike the old man, who appeared unarmed, he had a stiletto on his belt and a .45 submachine gun on his back. Also, where the old man looked vigilant, this one seemed much more aggressive.

"Marco, we've been over this," the older man said. "You have to stop sneaking up on people."

"And then what'd you just do? And it's his fault for being careless," Marco nodded to Will.

"Well, Fire was the perceptive one," Will mumbled. "So what do you want? Just to thank me?"

"Oh, more than that," Marco said, to be quickly silenced by a look from his counterpart.

"We know you need fuel. We have a lot of kerosene you should be able to use," said Don.

"And your just giving me this?" Will was completely confused by this mysterious duo. He didn't trust them at all. Just then, he heard a sound he was all too familiar with: the roar of an engine. He looked up to see three aircrafts heading to the direction Fire, Maya, and Ofi had headed off in when the left. He then noticed the ensign on the side of one: the stars encircling a giant E.

"No, Mr. Macleod," Don said. "We have a mutual enemy. You've got skills, and we have supplies. And right now, it looks like you and your friends need us."


	17. Chapter 17

**_Chapter 17: La Bolsa de Mierda (The Bag of S***)_**

**_(Ok guys, in addition of the typical "don't sue me" bit, BTW, I do not own Fallout Bethesda does, so don't sue me, I need the y'alls opinions on my next project. No, I have no intention of ending GCW any time soon, this project is half of what's keeping me sane. But soon I shall start another project, and I want y'alls opinions on my next project. I'm asking everyone who reads this to review and just leave a letter for what my next project should be. A, an All Origins Dragon Age fanfic, B, an independent Fable Fanfic, or C, a Skyrim multi Dovakiin story? I hope to eventually do all, but as my readers, y'all should have a say in what I do. Now, back to the usual. Enjoy.)_**

As Fire swung out his revolver, he knew he was in it deep. He fired off a round at one of the bulking figures that emerged from the vertibird, only to have the bullet ping off. He recognized their apparel as power armor, but it was completely different, exteriorly at least, from Will's. Ducking to the side of the door, Fire made a grab for his grenades. A hand snatched his before he could grab the fragmentation device. He turned to see Maya holding an Pulse Grenade, with a slightly demented smile.

As she flung the grenade out, Fire pulled his bow from his shoulder. As he nocked an arrow, he tried wrapping his head around the situation. One minute, he and Maya were strolling the perimeter to kill time. The next, three vertibirds flew on them and unloaded a lot of Enclave soldiers.

As the pulse detonated, Fire let the arrow fly at the neck of a fried soldier, the arrow sinking in up to the fletchings, the chink in the armor noted for future purposes. One could not tell from looking at the bow, but it was actually one of the strongest bows to come from any tribe, with a draw weight of roughly 150 pounds. In comparison to energy weapons or guns, it seemed pitiful. However, quite the opposite was true. Another three soldiers learned this before they scrambled for cover. Maya then ran to the roof for a good sniping position, and Fire noticed Speaker run to the other side of the door, ready to unload a riot shotgun. He nodded to Fire than dropped on his knee to steady his aim. Fire wondered what Will would think of this picture.

Taking stock of the situation, Fire noted two soldiers that stuck out. One wore a clothe based uniform, and really seemed out of place in the combat field. His behavior to men under his command seemed rather apathetic, even to the point of shoving them to the side to save himself. The other was an armored figure who appeared to be the opposite of his counterpart. He actually threw himself over a stumbling solider to keep the man from being killed from Maya's sniper fire. Fire made a mental note to try to keep that one alive if they were in a position to take prisoners.

Just then, Fire saw a glint of light and swung his gaze to the man in clothe. He was leveling his gun at the armored commander, who was now treating an arrow wound in one soldiers knee. Fire immediately took aim at the bolsa de mierda, but before he could fire at the traitorous bastard (after all, the other commander was clearly an honorable man to an extent) all parties involved had their attrntions captured by another vertibird coming in, this one with the Brotherhood crest, but it wasn't Will's, it was too maintained. It hovered about twenty feet, then dropped off a man and flew behind the station.

At roughly seven feet tall, and clad in some form of power armor, the man was clearly formidable. His lack of helmet revealed a unkempt haircut and beard, which, in addition to the axe in his hand, reminded Fire of an old warrior in his village who had long since past.

"Holy shit," Speaker spoke like he just saw a ghost. He took advantage of the time to reload his shotgun, then got in a more comfortable position, clearly intent on not firing any more rounds.

"What's wrong? We have more to deal with," Fire said, readying the arrow on his string. It was his last.

"You honestly have no clue who that is, do you?"

"Well, enlighten me," Fire said, slightly agitated. He couldn't help that Maya had some thoughts for the ghoul, he just shrugged it off. But being mocked was a nerve hitter for the tribal.

"That's Wolf. The Lone Wanderer. Hero of the Capital Wastes. Theres no deadlier man alive," Speaker said. "Just watch."

As Fire turned to watch, he was hoping that Maya was doing well on her perch.


	18. Chapter 18

**_Chapter 18: A Legend's Work_**

(Not mine, Bethesda's. Also, if anyone is interested, next Monday will be the launch of my 2nd story. I hope y'all enjoy Dragon Age with a SLIGHT crossover twist. :) However, I have some news y'all may or may not care for. I'm going in a trip to Florida the 28th -30th. So I may not be able to pop out the next chapter of by then. However, worst case scenario, I just publish it the following day. Just explaining any issues that may occur. Now, read on and feel free to comment.)**  
**  
As Maya saw the new figure drop in the field, she immediately began watching him like a hawk. He flew in on an unknown aircraft, and that made him suspect. The rather intimidating individual only had an axe as far as she could see, and then she matched the the man in front of her to the description she'd heard on the radio numerous time. The Lone Wanderer.

The man strolled over to the nearest cluster of soldiers, all too shocked to do anything, and then she saw it happen. The legend went to work.

Like lighting, the monstrous man leapt on them. His axe cleaved one man from the shoulder to the middle of his stomach. He then violently yanked the gruesome weapon from the canned meat that the grunt became, then used the broad side to smash in another man's head. From her scope she could see the intense fury that the man wore on his face. She was thankful not only that he was on their side, but that they were also so far apart.

Just then, the berserking man was shot in his right shoulder by what looked like a plasma rifle. He spun around to see a rather brave Enclave man firing at him, and between shots he was urging the soldiers around him to run to their birds. Either he had some death wish, or a misplaced sense of loyalty. Either way, he was putting his life in the line to save others. Very different from the officer in cloth earlier who honestly was probably incapable of caring any less than he did.

Wolf sprinted towards the brave, or foolish, challenger. The man kept firing, having no effect on the raging man. He dropped his rifle and pulled out a combat knife, looking over his shoulder to check on the others. On bird was taking off, but the hatch was still open and there was only one figure Maya could see in the transport bay, and his cloth was a telltale sign. The challenger turned just as the giant came in striking range.

Wolf swung his axe diagonally at the man, only for him to dodge it by a few inches. He swiped at Wolf's face, also missing, however this gave the Enclave operative a better angle for a slash at Wolf's neck. As he angled his blade for the kill, Wolf's hand grabbed the man's knife hand, twisted in a way that definitely looked painful to Maya, and tossed the man to the side. As he walked over to his conquered foe, he raised his axe high above his head for a good strike through that tough power armor.

But apparently, that Enclave bastard had a guardian angel. A rather stubborn one to. Maya couldn't tell when he began moving, only that before Wolf could crash the weapon down, standing between the two adversaries was Lonely Fire.

Through her scope, Maya gazed at them. Two intense pairs of eyes locked with each other, one pale and furious, the other blue and burning. Eventually, Wolf Turned away to watch as the last of the Enclave got in their birds and flew off. Maya sighed in relief, certain that that scenario could have been so much worse.

With the situation handled, she relaxed. Looking up at the sky she saw two more birds coming in. Neither wore Enclave colors. In fact, in appeared to be Will's. The other bore a die with six dots on it. Maya's throat tightened. That meant that Luna was in that bird...well, considering their last encounter, Maya figured this was gunna be interesting. She looked down to see Wolf pick the man and tote him on his shoulder. She wondered how these two wasteland social titans would get along. She hoped well. After that performance, she would never wish any bad on anyone's dealing with Wolf.


	19. Chapter 19

_**Chapter 19: Reunions and First Impressions**_

_**(Hey guys. Same bit as usual. I do NOT own Fallout. Just my OP OCs.)**_

Will landed the bird at a leveled area close to another bearing the Brotherhood emblem, and another showing a die. He knew immediately who they belonged to. He looked over his shoulder at the young man who came with him. Marco wasn't exactly a good travel companion, being practically mute. But at least he wasn't a dick about everything like he first let on back at the plantation. The heavily armed mafioso simply sat back with his gun on his lap the entire time. Will wondered if being so nonchalant was a front he put up for girls.

Jumping out of the bird, he took stock. Coming out of the Brotherhood bird was a massive ghoul, a dark skinned woman, and a supermutant, all wearing heavy armor and using rather heavy hitting weapons, a combat shotgun, a minigun, and a gatling laser, respectively. From the die bird, a familiar petite frame emerged, clad in light armor from Utah, with a .357 on her hip. Behind her came a woman in T-45 armor, a man in repainted Enclave armor, and a man in NCR Survival gear. In order, they were using a displacer glove, a Tesla cannon, and an anti-material rifle. Looking around, Will felt a little small compared to these people. Not just the gear, he had a similar gatling laser after all, and his armor was top notch. But just the presence of them made his head go light. From the side, Fire and a behemoth of a man, the latter carrying another unconscious one over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, strolled over. This man was by far the most intimidating man he had ever seen. His milky pale eyes almost seemed to gaze directly into one's being. Add to that the unkempt hair and beard, and the man definitely had a disturbing air about him. He dropped the man on his shoulder in a fashion neither caring nor aggressive. He stuck out his massive hand towards Luna.

"Luna I presume? It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I hear nothing but good things about you," said the goliath. His voice sounded deep, but almost rusty from disuse. Judging from the recently used axe on his shoulder, he definitely let his actions speak louder than his words. He offered a slight, tired smile, like he was well past his years and seen to much of the world.

"That I am," she said, taking his hand to shake. Her voice was just as Will remembered it: soft and silky, pleasant on the ears and slightly alluring. "I hear much about how you've remade the Capital Wastes. I am most interested in how you manage to improve life so much." She too was smiling, but hers was warm and vibrant, that of one who was still fresh in their life.

"Later. We've both had long trips, I'm sure you and your companions are just as tired as I am, and after that little exercise, I need a meal," he said. He then turned to Fire, glancing down at the native with a quizzical look.

"And who might you be? Not many people have the balls to stare down a giant, axe wielding berserker. I respect your ability to do so.

"Lonely Fire, native of the area," he said, a now sticking his hand out for Wolf to shake. It seemed small in comparison as the giant grasped it and firmly shook. Will turned to see Maya and some ghoul emerge from the the side of the landing pad farthest from them. She nodded to him, and he returned it. He couldn't help but notice that when Luna saw him and her, she had an...interesting, though unreadable, look in her eyes. So she recognized them.

"Hello," said the ghoul with Maya, stepping forward. "I am the Speaker. I am most honored that y'all came here for this event."

"Well, I am glad you are having us," Luna said, now noticeably more at ease. "Now, if I may ask, what was with that firefight we saw the tail end of on our way in?"

"Dunno. Looks like Wolf and Fire have a captive though. We can question him after we get y'all settled in," Speaker said, looking at the pile on the floor. He wasn't what Will expected at all. He actually found himself liking the radio host. Well...almost. The man was certainly better than what Will thought he'd be. At least of first impressions were anything to go by.

"Well, I think we should get everything underway," Wolf said, now wiping his blade on some grass. To prevent staining, if Will had to guess.

"Agreed," Luna said, her legendary charm turned on. The two opposites seemed to sit well with each other. Will hoped it remained that way.


	20. Chapter 20

_**Chapter 20: Dinner**_

(Sorry my story is later than usual. Dealing with personal drama. I am not going to promise you a regular pattern anymore, however I shall do my best to release a story about as frequently as before. By the way, not my property, belongs to Bethesda. Final note, after these three chapters, I plan on going back to simply Fire's, Maya's, and Will's view points, save certain occasions. Only reason these three are from Wolf's, Luna's, and Quislings's is because I feel it needs to be this way to round up some edges. Don't worry, they'll be back. Maybe even get their own stories eventually. Any feedback is appreciated.)  
  
Wolf stared at the dishes before him, it's contents exotic to the man. A bowl, filled with rice and some thick soup (or was it thin stew?) with a unique flavor. On the plate, a few rolls and some fried fish. He glanced at the others at the large dining room table, which looked out of place in the large studio, and saw the southerners and westerners eat. Fire especially seemed to enjoy the broth substance. As Wolf pulled a spoonful in his mouth, he was greeted with a flood of flavors. Now the giant knew that the south's cooking tales were true. As he continued eating, being mindful to not tear into it, he thought about those around him.

Luna seemed to be a remarkable woman, and someone he could relate to. While her methods and skills differed greatly from his, they shared common goals: stabilization, protection, and safety of the weak. She was something he hadn't considered himself since Dogmeat: a good person. Sometimes he would be willing to put the many ahead of the few. He hated it, but it happened. She seemed to typically manage to keep everyone alive. He envied the petite woman on that fact.

Then there was the tribal. When he first saw the man, he didn't know what to think. Actually, he wasn't thinking. He was held in his rage, blood boiling in his veins. He never fought any other way since that day. But the sheer willpower in those disturbingly blue eyes made Wolf check himself. Another kindred spirit, but unique. He now knew that Fire's roots had instilled a sense of honor and dignity in the man. He could respect that.

"So, here we are," the Speaker said, sitting between the Charon and the woman who came with Luna. "Anyone have anything to say before the talks tomorrow?"

"I do," Wolf said, standing. He nodded towards Charon, who pulled a package from his pack, and handed it to Wolf. Wolf then walked over to Luna, towering over the woman of the west. He then presented her the package.

"Consider it a good faith gift. I've heard of your enjoyment of archaic books," the titan started. She unwrapped it and gasped. "Having access to Arlington Library, as well as the Congressional Library, we found many old tomes. We copied many. Including the volumes you have before you. Machiavelli's 'The Prince', Aesop's Fable's, and Vegetius's 'A Guide to Roman Warfare'. I translated the last one after word reached of their way east, and while I know not when they shall arrive, or even if, I figured being prepared would be best. Also, as a gift, I figure holding a book that Caesar would have found valuable, I figured you may enjoy the irony in that." This was the most that Wolf has spoken in a while, his voice still creaked from disuse. Still, he got his message across. Now, Luna packed away the books.

"Thank you Wolf. I appreciate these very much. In fact, I brought something for you as well." She nodded to the woman who came with her, who retrieved a rather large parcel. She handed it to Wolf. The weight of it was definite, but not overbearing. He unwrapped it to find something he never thought he'd see: a true battle axe. Double headed, made entirely of steel. He could tell it was old from the craftsmanship. Maybe even older than Toshiro, the Edo Period warrior back on Mothership Zeta. Thought back to how his friend had sense learned English, and about his companions from the space vessel. "It is a Celtic weapon. Believed to have belonged to someone named Ulf, I believe. The NCR gave it to me as a gift for taking care of Caesar. I figured you can put it to better use." He didn't tell her how unlikely that story was. 'Ulf' was simply the Norse name for 'Wolf', and he doubted it belonged to Quarrelsome. Still, it was a beautiful weapon, and superior to his current axe.

"Thank you. It is a beautiful gift," Wolf said, hefting it on his shoulder. After that, about everyone finished dinner. As he slipped into his quarters, he made a mental note to talk to Fire before he left. Surely there was more to him than met the eye. Same applied for Luna...it seemed that despite her good intentions, she was hiding something in regards to Fire's companions. But what could that be?

He put his mind on other matters as he approached the bound figure in the center of the room. This was the Enclave trooper who actually gave a fuck about his men. Because of that, Wolf decided he'd take it a little easy on the man. Well, at least easy enough so he'd leave the room with as many pieces as he entered with. Most of the people the berserker interrogated weren't half as lucky.


	21. Chapter 21

**_Chapter 21: Apologies_**

(Hey, sorry later than I planned. Busy. Going to Alaska tomorrow. I have not a clue if I'll have any wifi, so if not, I'll have a story posted the 18th. Also, feel free to review & what not. Enjoy a little peek into both Luna's & Maya's past.)  
  
Luna laid down to relax. By wasteland standards, the rather mundane mattress was a godsend. Or so her more religious friends would say. Luna was still seeking answers, and had yet to find a faith that provided any, although she'd be lying to say that Graham hadn't come close to converting her once or twice.

Now clad in some sleepwear modified to be more...modest, Luna began reading The Prince to pass the time. She certainly appreciated the gesture of Wolf. Despite his skills and personality, the man was much smarter than he let on. She wouldn't be surprised if his intelligence passed her 7 on the Vigor Tester. A shame he chose a more brutal way of operation, but due to his sheer size and strength, she supposed that in a land that needed giants, he was needed in that capacity. Her mind drifted back to Vegas momentarily, but then she brought herself to the Gulf. She knew that any alliance with the berserker, and therefore his connections, would benefit her people greatly. She had no clue if it was true he had a partnership with the Pit, or had a punga fruit plantation set up in Broken Banks, or any other rumors she heard. But she knew he had many resources at his disposal, despite being only (allegedly) a figurehead.

A soft knock at the door brought her attention to reality, and she called out a quiet "Enter." There, in leather armor, stood a woman so different from the misguided girl she knew from long ago. Maya.

"Maya, is there anything I can do for you?" Luna was deeply uncomfortable with Maya's presence, but she didn't let it show. She was in the wrong.

"Just looking for a talk. And to retell you something," Maya said, now sitting at the foot of Luna's bed. The look on the young woman's face confirmed Luna's suspicions: it was about that night. "Firstly, you were still hallucinating from those toxins. You didn't know it was me." Luna stared at the young woman, and though she didn't blush, she felt as if she should have. "Secondly, I'd be lying if I said I neither wanted nor enjoyed that night." There was something of a smile in her tone, but her face showed only sincerity in relating a message that she gave Luna multiple times before: she should not punish herself for the past.

Staring at the wall behind Maya, Luna spoke in a soft, almost inaudible tone, "You were young. Too young. 20 to 15 is not right. Theres so much that could have gone wrong."

"Not with who you are," Maya said, a little assertively. "You don't force ANYTHING. Ever. Besides, if I didn't want to, I would have left. Not to mention, in my times as a slave...well, that was my first time that I wasn't abused in. So don't blame yourself."

They locked eyes again, and Luna remembered that night, like she did every day since. But now...well, it wasn't with self hatred. She let go. If Maya never begrudged her, it was past time for her to forgive herself.

"So, you ever told Veronica how you felt?"

Now blushing, she shook her head.

"How can someone so beautiful, so talented, so...perfect feel love for someone like me?"

Maya stared at her, then slapped her upside the head in a playful manner, saying, "Don't be such an insecure bitch! You're Luna! The Courier! The silver tongued heroine of the west! Trust me, you have a fair chance."

Luna smiled at the young sniper and remembered just how much she missed having him and Will hang around the 38. The two, only kids then, really livened the place up. Maya actually brought out a side of Boone that Luna never saw, almost a fatherly relationship. However, whenever anyone asked, he'd just grunt. As for Will, he was actually Veronica's protege from the Brotherhood. The kid was a genius.

"Well, thanks," Luna said, smiling warmly at her old friend. "So, there anyone you got your eye on?"

"Actually...yes," Maya said, a slight smile upon her lips.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22: Mastermind (Or Idiot?)

**_(Sorry y'all, been bogged down. Tries making the chapter longer than usual to make up for it. Y'all know Fallout is NOT my property. Etc. School's here again, but trust me, I won't forget about you all. Thanks for waiting. Feel free to review.)_**

Quisling was nervously walking to and fro in his quarters, unsure of what to do. Just as he was about to put Johnson down, all hell broke loose. Then, when Wolf, may the fucking psycho rot in hell for eternity for damning them to these swamps, almost did the job for him, that tribal stopped him. And if he knew one thing about Wolf, it was that he'd do anything to get information on Enclave pockets. That, and that he was very good at what he did.

And when he heard that the Courier from Vegas was here, he knew he was in deep shit. The two most powerful people in the US, probably the continent, and possibly the world, would be after him. And one of them was a fucking axe wielding psychopath who dedicated his existence to revenge, whereas the other survived a headshot to hunt down her mugger, and systematically manipulated every opposing faction like a like Cassius from that Old World play.

He decided that he had to enact his plan sooner than he predicted. Checking his notes one last time, he reviewed what he had to do. Using the same tech used to "tame" deathclaws in the Capitol years earlier, he acquired 12 of those swampland monstrosities for Enclave use. The tribal had a hard enough time handling one, so he decided to unleash the remaining ones on that village. After all, if word got out that those mud people needed help, maybe the lunatic and the cunt would help the tribals at the village, enabling him to complete the project. And if try arrived too late, perhaps they would be too intimidated to continue? Not Wolf, obviously the man had lost all concept of the words "fear" or "sense" when whatever caused him to snap occurred, but Luna supposedly was very rational with her decisions. And the tribal was a nobody, so chances were he'd return to his meek existence should the village be attacked. All the primitives understood were shows of force.

Upon leaning over the map, he saw the same red dots he placed earlier. These were the location of Old World oil rigs that still contained the crude oil. With a bit of maintenance, they could be repaired an used to make fuel for all the Enclave's needs. He recommended the idea himself before all hell broke loose in D.C. due to Wolf. And worst case scenario, if the rigs WERE dry, the other team, thousands of miles away, was even more likely to harvest oil. After all, almost no one lived THERE, thought the inept officer with a smirk.

Laying down, Quisling decided he had everything under control. But there was something he didn't count on...

*Earlier, at GNRS.*

"Alright boyo, time to talk," Wolf said, giving the trooper a chance. "Feel free to start small, like your name." Luna stood behind him, decided that having a "good cop" may save a mess.

"My name is Tom Johnson. And that's all you'll get from me," he said, not so much in defiance as in determination. He had a light complexion, and shaved dirty blond hair. He was pretty beaten from the encounter with Wolf, but he had no concussions, and remained aware of his surroundings. Both the wasteland legends agreed his endurance must have been at least an eight. He was a tough bastard.

"Why hide this? You seem a good man. You acted atypical to most Enclave personnel either of us have met," said Luna, brushing hair from her face. Whereas Wolf was still in battle gear, she wore a far more diplomatic dress and a beret.

"Because, I still believe in the ideas. I hate the methods, but their still my country," said the man, half a world away. Luna had earlier noted a familiarity the man possessed. With this sentence, she know knew it.

"You have any relatives out west? Specifically, an older man? I ran into an ex-Enclave man before who went by the name Cannibal Johnson," Luna said.

The man looked down, then looked up at her, and with a clear voice said, "My uncle is alive?"

"Yes. Very. In fact, we are quite good friends. I'm not sure if you heard, but the Remnants, your uncle's squad, were vital to me in securing the Dam. In fact, I think I may have brought someone with me you may know," Luna said and promptly turned and exited. Not a few minutes later, she came back with the tall blond man. Both his and Tom's faces had a noticeable reaction.

"Tom? Is that you? I had no idea, when Wolf carried you off you were in your armor," the man, Arcade if Wolf recalled correctly, said.

"Well Arcade, it's a delight to see you again to," Clay said with a dry tone. "Still with that-"

"Ah, no I'm not. But it's good to see you again. Please, help us. Even Moreno would likely tell you to help us."

The lone man looked down, then inhaled sharply. He looked everyone in the eye, and said, "Ok. I'll help."


End file.
